Quotes About Silence

There was more to say, but for once we did not say it. There would be other times for speaking, tonight and tomorrow and all the days after that. He let go of my hand.

If I had had words to speak such a thing, I would have. But there were none that seemed big enough for it, to hold that swelling truth. As if he had heard me, he reached for my hand. I did not need to look; his fingers were etched into my memory, slender and petal-veined, strong and quick and never wrong. "Patroclus," he said. He was always better with words than I.

The flames surround me, and I feel myself slipping further from life, thinning to only the faintest shiver in the air. I yearn for the darkness and silence of the underworld, where I can rest.

Ariadne's light feet crossed and recrossed the circle. Every step was perfect, like a gift she gave herself, and she smiled, receiving it. I wanted to seize her by the shoulders. Whatever you do, I wanted to say, do not be too happy. It will bring down fire on your head. I said nothing, and let her dance.

There was nothing in the world I wanted more than to know what he had not said.

In the silence, I can hear Phoinix's breaths, labored with the exertion of speaking so long. I do not dare to speak or move; I am afraid that someone will see the thought that is plain on my face. It was not honor that made Meleager fight, or his friends, or victory, or revenge, or even his own life. It was Cleopatra, on her knees before him, her face streaked with tears. Here is Phoinix's craft: Cleopatra, Patroclus. Her name built from the same pieces as mine, only reversed.

Peleus acknowledged this. "Yet other boys will be envious that you have chosen such a one. What will you tell them?" "I will tell them nothing." The answer came with no hesitation, clear and crisp. "It is not for them to say what I will do.

The earth seemed to echo where I walked. Above me the sky stretched out its empty hands.

I clap my hands over my ears. The voices of the dead were said to have the power to make the living mad. I must not hear him speak.

We were silent a moment. 'So, which of the suitors would you have picked?' I shoved him, and he laughed

I thought of how many nights I had lain awake in this room, loving him in silence

Patroclus. I have given enough to them. I will not give them this." After that, there was nothing more to say.

The voices of the dead were said to have the power to make the living mad.

You do not command me. The silence went on and on, painful and breathless, like a singer overreaching to finish a phrase. Then,

I will tell them nothing." The answer came with no hesitation, clear and crisp. "It is not for them to say what I will do.

Every moment he was with me, I felt a rushing in my throat, which was my love for him, so great sometimes I could not speak.

Not a sound, but a sort of silence, a faint hum like the space between note and note in a song.

We reached for each other, and I thought of how many nights I had lain awake in this room loving him in silence. Later, Achilles pressed close for a final, drowsy whisper. "If you have to go, you know I will go with you." We slept.

we reached for each other, and i thoughts of how many nights i had laid awake in this room, loving him in silence. later, Achilles pressed close for a final, drowsy whisper. "if you have to go, you know i will go with you".

The breakfast was rather silent, but not with strain.

Humility – umiltà in Italian or umirtà in Sicilian – is a word that jumps off the page. It is now considered to be the most likely origin for the word omertà. Omertà is the mafia's code of silence, and the obligation not to speak to the police that it imposes on those within its sphere of influence. Evidently omertà was originally a code of submission.

To know and feel all this and not have the words to express it makes a human a grave of his own thoughts.

If only I still had faith in words.

Shouting is obvious; not talking to each other slips by.